


Commandeer

by Morrigan_RedBlack



Series: Keeping Up Appearances [3]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan_RedBlack/pseuds/Morrigan_RedBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human desires are the ultimate downfall of their lives.<br/>Mine are no different even when I'm aware, </p><p>I am aware.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commandeer

**Author's Note:**

> This one is the second installment of the series "Keeping Up Appearance". 
> 
> Finally..

 

**Title: _Commandeer_**

**Disclaimer: _This is a purely fictional work. I don't own anything. All characters used belong to themselves and WWE._**

**Warnings: _Explicit language, implied m/m relations and alcohol._**

**Summary: _Human desires are the ultimate downfall of their lives. Mine are no different even when I'm aware, I am aware._**

* * *

 

 

I hate the smell of this place.

 

It hit me hard in the face when I walked in through the bar doors accompanying Kid and the rest of them to spend the night out. Some things doesn't quite change, and its funny. Funny how, if you know me, you'd think that this guy, _this guy_ who hung out with a bunch of other people in bars and clubs,  the people who drank and did drugs, should have absolutely no problem with being in these kinda places right?

 

Wrong.

 

Absolutely fucking wrong.

 

Its called reverse coping mechanism.

 

It simply means that if I can't get away from them, I would have to join them.

 

It means putting up with three guys that I called friends and staying for a lover.

 

Oh, I stand corrected. My ex-lover.

 

That egomaniac, son-of-a-bitch.

 

Ever since Shawn left, my professional life has been engulfed in a fluctuating pattern. Some days the crowd is good, others were insignificant. It even hurts a little less now when the fans whom I perform in front of do not appreciate the work I do; let alone show some acknowledgement to it. Well in the meantime, although I do get the spotlight  to lead the most controversial stable in professional wrestling industry (you know as they called it, D-Generation X) and short reign with Intercontinental title, it is not the same as being at the top of the competition, the big player in the business. Key man, star guy, et cetera et cetera.

 

Whatever the shit is called.

 

I know for the life of me that I have been working very hard to do this thing that I love. Wrestling. I push myself everyday to be at the very best and stand toe-to-toe with the best. I watched tapes and studied matches. I took the roles that I was given and ran with them to the best I could. But the harsh reality is that in this screwed up business, it's not about hard work.

 

Its about influence.

 

I learned that after a short but less than memorable stint at WCW. It was probably one of the reasons why I befriended the Kliq. I wanted to hang with the established men of this business, because in that way the higher ups would definitely take note of me, which if you would know and watch wrestling at that time, they did. Somehow because of Shawn, I was in the picture of the main event, more often than not, riddin' his coat tails ( and his cock) when he was at the prime of his career. It was the time where not only I had the opportunity to show off my worth, but it is also the best time I could have in the spotlight. Once you have that moment, you wanted more and more of it. It's almost similar to drugs; you can't just have it one time and then go off just like that. Because _it won't go off like that_. Trust me, every single one of us know what it's like.

 

Now that he's gone, it feels like I have lost that influence I once had proxy from Shawn in the business. And being impliedly told to take a backseat from the spot is a major alarm warning to becoming irrelevant. And the final nail in the coffin was that Duane, that annoying rookie I have grown to have a severe dislike gets a shot at WWF title and I just have to sit and watch it all go down.

 

That's it.

 

That was fuckin' it.

 

I stayed up the whole of last night, thinking about what I am gonna do to try to get into the main event picture. Of course there must be influence, no doubt about it but I am lacking it. As I racked my brain trying to come up with something, it crossed my mind. It's downright dirty politics but I could care less at the moment. Despite Jo's slight snores beside me, I was able to formulate the plan and it had my confidence increasing pending it's execution. Now though, as I sat here thinking through it silently, I realised there is a flaw in the plan. A flaw that I overlooked.

 

You see, I was, and still is being hated by many of, if not the entire locker room because one; I am Shawn's best friend and two; I am Kliq. To add fuel to fire, most men do take it upon themselves to take personal grudges outside the ring and try to mess me up in an unprofessional capacity. They are not afraid of it and I am sure if given an opportunity, they would love to re-arrange my face. And I wouldn't want it to  happen anytime soon because I have a long way to go in the ring. If that actually happened, it would be a disaster.

 

"Hey, Hunt. Look the guy is checking you out"'.

 

I was snapped out my thoughts by Kid's drunken babbling. Turning around on my stool as much as possible, I looked over the far corner of the bar, which is a bit difficult because of the dim lights and hazy smokes filled the air. And that's when our eyes met.

 

Piercing green eyes.

 

The Undertaker.

 

Now I know what to do.

 

* * *

 

I was not surprised when I first saw him coming into the bar, accompanying the little kid Waltman and the rest of them for the night. They gonna fall into booze and drugs not two minutes later from entry minus him as I have never seen him having a beer. Maybe because he does not like to drink in public. Maybe he is a private person but all that are not my concern. I gulped a large fill of my beer down as I watch him closely, which is something that I have been doing a lot lately. I wouldn't call it an obsession; he's cute and I have thing for a blondes so that's set.

 

But I know he is in whirlwind of unhappiness and dissatisfaction. I can tell by the frown that seemed to be ever present on his perfect pout, the hazel eyes that once shined with light of confidence had now dimmed considerably in the wake of Michaels' abrupt leaving of the company. Of all the kids in the back, this boy had stolen my attention and I been thinking bout' him for months now. I tried to come up with a million reasons to justify it but it all points to one thing; Lust.

 

I lust for Hunter Hearst Hemsley.

 

I could care less if he is in relationship with Shawn or anybody else for that matter cause' all I want now is a taste. A taste of intrigue. A taste of arrogance. Defiance. Fire.

 

A taste of him.

 

I am bidding my time slowly. The moment opportunity present itself is the moment I am gonna pick him up, slam his perfect body against a wall and fuck his brains out until there is nothing left. So I waited and continue to wait.

 

Until now.

 

I saw him looking around the bar and in a glimpse of a heartbeat, our eyes met. In that split second my carnal instincts sprung to life and roared at me.

 

_The right time to claim is now._

 

* * *

 

 

I walked briskly to the table where he sat and nodded to Simmons who simply grunted at me. He looked up at me from his mug and smirked.

 

" Thought you didn't like places like  this, kid. Waltman is put out?"

 

" Its nothing new and Sean is fine, thank you", I snapped sharply at him. As complicated our relationships are in the group but no one, I mean no-fucking-one talks shit about my brothers. A Kliq is always a Kliq and that's that.

 

He continued to smirk at me; cold green eyes glittering with a dangerous sparkle that made me a bit nervous. I swallowed hard.

 

" I need to talk to you."

 

He looked at Simmons briefly. Simmons then looked at me and nodded before getting up and out of his seat. He gestured me to sit and I did, across him.  I watched Simmons disappear through the throng of the crowd and didn't even realise that a drink was put on my side of the table; the loud thud breaking me out of my reverie.

 

He leaned forward towards me; his eyes began to glitter even more in the seedy darkness.

 

Suddenly, I am not so sure about this.

 

* * *

 

 

He's nervous.

 

But he is putting up a good act of nonchalance. I purposely let the tense silence between us linger for a while. And as it lingered, I found myself taking in his features. Those hazel-brown eyes and the aristocratic nose. The lips in ever present pout. The unruly waves of his blond hair accentuated his angular jaw,made gentle to a strong face. The unshaven stubble on his face. He's a man's man. And I want him.

 

I will make him want me.

 

He looked away from my gaze and internally I rejoiced in making him feel uncomfortable; He looked at me again, straight in the eye this time.

 

"I want to be the top guy for this company"

 

  _Well, that's interesting_.

 

I cocked my head to the side, staring him intently. " What do you want me to do about it?"

 

* * *

 

 

I took a deep silent breath before I start. I was expecting him to ask me that and I already made out a good reasoning in my head.  _Now or never ,Hunter._

 

"I need the guys off my back. If I want to approach Mcmahon, I can't do it with those bastards breathing down my neck. They hate me and you know it".

 

Well no shit, they do, as a matter fact and principle, hate me. All the guys in the back disliked the Kliq and even Nash went down to Atlanta with Hall, with just me and Shawn they still hated us.The famous propaganda is that Kliq rules the business by only focusing on pushing themselves and not everybody else.  Which I would deny at any given time of the day, but you wouldn't listen to me cause some Bret-fanatic told ya it's shit.

 

Welcome to wrestling, ladies and gentlemen. The pool of sharks swimming in a water of lies, backstabbing and wholesome of dirty politics that would make piranha look like salmon.

 

I am not good in making analogy but you get the picture, right?

 

I don't care.  I want to get to the top at any costs and I would be damned if I let haters try to fuck me over in the process.

 

And you may wonder; why do I need his help to get what I want? For fuck's sake he is another guy in the roster who is a sure shot main-eventer at any given time and would want to keep his spotlight. Which makes him a direct competitor against me. The logic is this; I am not appealing my case to him for him to remove himself out of the picture, I just want to even the level playing field so that my planned take over would go smoothly. After all, Mark is the leader of the locker room. When he tells you something, you better listen because if you don't you will be screwed over in a fashion that's not pretty for words.

 

"You keep them in check, and I would give you a fair fight when the time comes for both of us against each other", I said, looking into his eyes. I did not notice it before, but his eyes seem to hold a maniacal glee every time I looked into them. I don't know if it's my own paranoia or if  his new "Lord of Darkness" gimmick is having that kind of effect on him. Either way they made me queasy.

 

I looked at the beer in front of him and contemplated for a moment if I should drink it, as I waited for his answer, with baited breath.

 

I got a feeling I would be needing it in the near future.

 

* * *

 

 

This boy got spunk. That's for sure.

 

Instead of trying to break the code and go charm Mcmahon directly, he wants me to hold the others back while he takes his top spot. His idea is that for me to give him the leeway that he had with Kliq so he can move forward. And he came to me because he knew how far my influence can reach and my leadership of the locker room. It was brilliantly crafted plan and silently I regarded his due credit. His ruthlessness and intelligence will to take him very far in the game.

 

As I do, I also think of my own interest,or _tried_ to see my own interest. I like being a champion but that's not the thing I am obsessed with it. I like the position I am in now. The leader of the roster. The man that everyone feared and respected. No one questions me and I can do just about anything or should I say _anyone_ that I want.

 

I like that.

 

I like that _a lot._

 

I see him staring at his beer and he hasn't touched it yet. Good. Later when I take him, I can enjoy his authentic taste without it having compromised with alcohol.

 

"I can do that, Hemsley", I said.

 

He looked up at me with me mild surprise before composing himself again.

 

_This is going to be a wicked fun._

 

* * *

 

 

" I can do that, Hemsley", he said so suddenly that I was startled out my thoughts with a jolt.

 

I was shocked to say the least. I mean, I didn't expect him to agree so quickly. At the same time though my internal alarms were screeching in warning.

 

_Stand down, Hunter._

 

"But, if I do this for you, what do I get in return?"

 

My throat suddenly feels dry and I swallowed a couple of times as he looked at me with questioning eyes. It is a simple straight-forward question but I can't help to ignore the sinking feeling to it. There must be an underlying motive to it. A personal agenda that he has for me. But the question is, what in the blue fucking hell could it possibly be?

 

_What the hell do you want?_

 

"What do you want?" I asked, taking the bait. It can't be that bad right, I mean I don't have much that he would want, maybe money or title shot or-

 

"You".

 

_What?!_

 

Did I hear that right? He wanted me? What in the blue hell makes him think he can ask me that, I...I can't just fathom so I blurt the next smart thing I knew of. "What?'

 

"You heard me right, boy. I want you. Not for a one night stand or one off thing. I want you as long as you need my favour. If you're okay with it, then I will do your favour. If you're not, then you can leave it's not a problem", he spoke in such a manner  as though he was talking about the weather. I suddenly felt light headed and I feared that I actually topple over from where I sat.

 

_This is not happening_

 

And then the spinning stopped. Suddenly I understood what he meant. He wants me. My body. A free reign privilege over my personal being over the course of me being at the top. And I may not look like it, but the only person I ever slept with was Shawn and even though it became a nightmare toward the flailing end of our relationship, I never considered to seek affection from someone else. The very thought of it never crossed my mind and I can't imagine being so intimate with anyone that is not Shawn; no matter how asshole of a person he was, I loved him with everything I had and I still do.

 

But Shawn's not here.

 

I am left trying to fend for myself; to be a success and not an afterthought.

 

Is it really worth it? To aim for something superficial?

 

_Yes._

 

I can just pretend it's alright. It is not that bad right.

 

I looked at him again who this time a slipped a sheet of paper under my palm. _Room 336_

 

"Meet me when you have made up your mind".

 

And he left.

 

My mind was blank. I can't think of anything as I stood up and left the bar into the cold night. Hailed a cab and hopped into backseat. "Where to?", the burly driver asked.

 

" Sundance Avenue".

 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

_3.45 a.m._

 

The digital numbers on my watch appeared blurry in my vision. I took it off, and rubbed my wrists, not really caring if it further aggravates the marks on them. Its already bruised and painful; just like my entire body is.

 

Stumbling over into the room, I saw Joanie fast asleep on her bed. For the outside world we're maintaining a facade of being a couple but in reality she is to me what Kliq is to me. I care for her in that way and she reciprocated it, too. As I slipped into the shower and turned on the spray, I can't help but wonder what would she think of me if she knew what I have done.  And its no brainer, really. She would be disgusted just as I am with myself. Whoring yourself to get something you should earn has always been seen by people as the lowest thing to do in life. And Joanie for that matter, is a very proud woman. She would not let anything or anyone hold her down for any reason.

 

Unlike me.

 

I had given in so easily.

 

And I've got nothing left in me.

 

The only comfort to my aching body and shredded dignity is that moment when I win the belt.

 

I will.

 

He promised me I will.

 

_"Time to play the game"._

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> -This is the prequel to my other one-shot, "Lie to Me". Basically this laid down the setting of how Mark and Hunter had gotten engaged into what you could describe simply as being "complicated".  
> \- I have finally gotten an idea as to how to expand the theme is the story which is the bases of human desire. Every one has that one particular thing that makes up the totality of who they are and what they are here for. This series revolve around three characters and where they desires lead them. As such the setting would go back and forth in timeline but as it is I will try my best to make the story comprehensible.  
> \- As you may have noticed the last three parts have been Hunter-centric. The next may take a different light on a different character. I want to vary the plot as much as possible.  
> -As always, reviews are most welcome. Let me know what you thought bout it and where I can improve.


End file.
